why would you stop there? you're not done yet.

i would fuck or kill
any of the current presidential candidates
if i got paid enough.
the press and fame would come naturally
because you care.
youre invested.
i have no allegiance or morality.
no home.
no will.
no life.
but what i do have is
a tight ass,
a supple tongue,
a sharp eye,
and an itchy finger.

exhuming childhood dreams while burying the future

laying on a metal slab smelling of bleach and disinfectant in a windowless room, my skin is perforated, as everyone i come into contact with bites down, tearing long chunks off with dull teeth. revealing a network of veins, arteries, organs, muscles, bacteria, infection, disease.

hollow and bare surrounded by shadows under a single flickering bulb, i am the worse culprit of all. allowing this act of cannibalism, participating, and laughing about it with an open mind and mouth the entire time.

watching with rusted yellowed eyes: bodily fluids pool on the white tiled floor like spilled cola, as they are lapped up by numerous tongues like surgical scalpels with the taste for flesh. gaining strength. gaining closer. gaining answers to questions i will never understand.

mysterious sounds. the pitter-patter. splish-splash. groans. moans. cracking. snapping. heavy breaths. mixed with the whispers and spiders crawling through my ears. sounds like a church choir serenading a coffin being placed in a hole in the ground.

my body is a piece of meat, and my heart is slowing down, as i pick the rest of my skeleton clean.

because anymore, im neither alive nor dead.

im just killing time.

4/11/16

best wishes!

a date with the family

The moon is made out of

Shards of broken glass

That reflect beams of sunlight

Into the atoms underneath

My skin.

I carve, “die children die”

Into your right hand

So you can look at it

Every time you masturbate

With a hard cock.

Afterwards you flush the toilet,

Thinking about whirlpools at sea

And drowning.

Thinking about being eaten

By hundreds of small mouths,

Or maybe just a couple big ones,

And what it would be like to exist in something else.

Something unknown with sharp tongues

And dull teeth that grind you into

Tinier and tinier pieces.

Turning you into a poison,

That makes the earth sick.

So sick that it pukes and shits

What’s left of civilization

Into the solar system

Bringing about the last great mass extinction.

The earth is alive,

Just like you or me,

And it’s gasping for air.

The effects of the causes

We believed in and fought for

That amounted to nothing.

We are not heroes, nor martyrs,

But what we are is aware

That our vision is skewed,

Images are blurry,

And our ear drums have ruptured

Because they always had to listen to the

Sounds of our voices.

Filling our skulls with lead or chemicals,

So we can tattoo what’s wrong with us

All over our insides:

You don’t know.

And neither do I,

As we devour what’s left of us

And ourselves.

Becoming something unrecognizable.

Something non-existent.

Clipping our wings

To make us tame.